


Let Them Eat Cake, Love

by MissBaudelaire (IWillBeTheEndofYou)



Category: Dan Avidan - Fandom, Danny Sexbang - Fandom, Game Grumps, NSP - Fandom, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, Youtube RPF
Genre: Chocolate kisses!, F/M, I am really bad at cooking, I learned the hard way, Smoke Detectors, Superduper fluff, baking powder is not baking soda, cake baking, cooking failures, diabeetus reading, mentions of even more cooking failures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/MissBaudelaire
Summary: Dan sees the reader baking a cake. Knowing her culinary history, he decides to investigate.





	Let Them Eat Cake, Love

**Author's Note:**

> No but, I am seriously so bad at cooking. It's really awful. I'm trying to get better for my daughter. This is just a bit of fluff I felt compelled to write.

“What'cha doin'?” Dan poked his head in the kitchen, watching her stand on tiptop to reaching something off a shelf. She jumped, the bag of flour in her hand jerking, dusting everything with a fine white layer.  
“Oops!” he laughed. “Sorry, baby.”

“Daaaan,” she whined. “I'm making a cake.”

“A cake?” he repeated. He leaned in the doorway, crossed his arms as she dumped some of the flour in a measuring cup. “Why do you want to make a cake?”

“Because it's delicious and I like it.” she threw a dark look over her shoulder, daring him to say something about it.

It was true, she was awful at cooking. Once, Dan had come home to see a haze of gray smoke. He'd dropped his bag and rushed to the kitchen just as the smoke detectors started beeping. She was throwing open the window and trying desperately to wave away the smoke. She'd given him a weak smile before she began coughing.

That time, all Dan could do was switch off the oven and point her little asthmatic self to the bedroom. He'd cleared the smoke and dropped the smoking pan of—something that looked like meat and vegetables, but the charred remains didn't give many clues. It didn't matter. 

When he got to the bedroom, she looked chagrined and didn't meet his eye. Dan only sighed and contemplated her for a few moments before turning and pulling out his phone to order some Chinese, already knowing her order by heart.

It wasn't that she was careless so much as she got distracted. She liked to play music while she cooked, and sometimes he'd find her singing into a stirring spoon while the sauce she was making merrily went black on the bottom. Or she skimmed the instructions and found herself adding garlic salt instead of salt and garlic. Or she took on things she just wasn't quite skilled enough to handle.

Dan really didn't mind all the take out, or the simple meals of grilled cheese. He just liked eating with her. He just liked it when she looked over at him, realized he was hungry, and bustled off to make him something to eat, something she knew he liked without even asking. They didn't need anything fancy, she didn't need to try and make anything new.

She was in the fridge now, pulling out eggs. He watched for a moment as she checked the recipe on her phone, then looked back at her ingredients. He could tell she had changed her mind. It was a rather grand undertaking, he thought idly, for someone that somehow burned spaghetti noodles to bake a whole cake from scratch.

He pulled himself up onto the counter, crossing his legs at the knee to watch. She threw another glare over her shoulder and straightened her spine. Couldn't back out now, not with an audience. Dan saw her more than heard her take in a deep breath and begin to measure the ingredients. She was careful until she came to the baking powder and soda.

She cocked her head to the side, hooking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her tongue, so pink and soft looking darted out to thoughtfully dampen her lip. She picked up the soda and added a measurement, leaving out the baking powder. Dan opened his mouth, then closed it. She really, really didn't want his help on this.

She put the pan in the oven, offered him a spoon to lick, beaming brightly. There was a trace of smugness in that grin, and he could only refuse the offer and watch her lap the chocolate batter from the spoon. He loved watching her tongue slide out of her mouth and go up the bowl of the spoon. He liked watching her eyes close as she smiled, enjoying the sweetness there.

“Are you just gonna sit here until the cake is done?” she raised an eyebrow, traces of chocolate around her lips like a halo. 

“You got something better for me to do?” he hopped off the counter, advancing on her quickly until she was backed against the fridge. Her pupils went wide, and he could almost hear her heartbeat speed up.

“Could always wash the dishes.” she meant to sound flippant, but her voice was breathy, almost a moan.

Danny bent his head, tilting her head back a little. She whimpered as his tongue, long and wet, lapped at her mouth. Her lips parted, her head turned trying to capture him in a kiss. A low chuckle rumbled through him at her desperation.

“You're such a mess.” he said fondly.

“You love it.” she managed to rasp back. Dan just nodded, his hand sliding down her face to rest on her collarbone. She tilted on her tiptoes to capture him in a kiss. A warm one, tasting like chocolate and something that made him cry out 'love' in his head. She murmured something, her hands coming up to grip his shirt in tight fists.

“If you don't want your cake, you're liable to burn it.” he breathed against her face, feeling the heat rising from her body. He pressed his hips into her, suddenly anxious to see if she was warm somewhere else.

“You're killing me.” she groaned, letting her head drop to his chest. He rubbed her back for a moment, inhaling the scent of her, feeling the sense of calm radiating out of her. 

“Nah,” he shrugged. “Go watch your cake, Betty Crocker.” he patted her ass and strolled out of the room, aware that she was biting her lips and then settling in with a book.

She called him in when the timer dinged, obviously eager to show him her hard work. He came in, hands in his pockets, grinning at her. The place did smell delicious, that was true. She carefully pulled on her oven mitts, opened the door, and pulled out---.

A chocolate pancake?

“Oh no,” she moaned.

A chocolate pancake rock, Dan amended. It was stuck to the pan, refusing to lift when she tried to pry it up. Dan's brow furrowed, and he grabbed her phone to scan the recipe as she stared in dismay at her cake.

“Baby girl,” he sighed. “Baking powder?”

“I thought it meant soda.” she whimpered, looking devastated.

“I just wanted cake.” she mumbled, arms crossed over her chest.

“Come on,” he handed her back of phone. “Get your shoes and jacket.”

“Where are we going?” she looked petulant. “Going to parade around your failure of a girlfriend?”

“No,” he shook his head, feeling his curls bounce. “We'll go to the bakery. I'll get you a thousand cakes if you'd like.”


End file.
